Chapter 14: Kill Last

My fingers trembled slightly as I folded the parchment and slid it into the inside pocket of my jacket.

Jackson.

His name on that list hit harder than I expected.

Harder than I wanted to admit.

I stood alone in the library, the soft tick of the grandfather clock the only sound in the room. The air felt heavier now. Tighter. The walls, once lined with old books and warm shadows, suddenly seemed colder.

I’d trusted Jackson.

He’d taken me in. Trained me. Turned me into what I am.

A weapon.

A hunter.

But what if I’d been pointed in the wrong direction?

What if I was never meant to survive this mission?

“Kill last.”

Not spared.

Not saved.

Just delayed.

My chest tightened.

I needed answers. But storming into Jackson’s office, waving the paper in his face, demanding an explanation—that wasn’t the smart play.

Not yet.

I was surrounded by enemies, and if Jackson was one of them… I was more alone than I thought.

\---

I didn’t return to Aidan’s room right away.

Instead, I sat in the greenhouse attached to the east wing—a quiet space wrapped in climbing vines and half-dead orchids. The moonlight filtered through the glass ceiling in silver strands, brushing against my bare arms like whispers I didn’t ask for.

I didn’t know how long I sat there.

Long enough for my breath to settle.

Long enough to feel the burn of betrayal cool into something sharper.

Then I heard footsteps.

Not loud. Not rushed.

Just familiar.

I didn’t turn when Aidan appeared behind me.

“You disappear a lot,” he said quietly.

“I’m not used to being watched.”

“You’re not,” he said. “You’re being protected.”

“Same thing,” I muttered.

He moved closer, stopping beside the bench. “You’ve been different since the breach.”

“I found something.”

“What kind of something?”

I turned to him, eyes hard. “The kind that raises questions I’m not ready to ask.”

Aidan studied me. “You don’t have to hide things from me.”

I almost laughed. “Aidan, hiding things is literally all I do.”

He sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him. “I know,” he said. “But I also know something’s tearing at you. You look like you’re carrying too much. And I’ve seen that look before—on my father. Right before everything fell apart.”

I didn’t respond.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You don’t have to tell me. But if someone in this pack is a threat, I need to know. Not for politics. Not for war. Just for you.”

I looked away.

“I’m not used to this,” I whispered.

“This?”

“Being cared for.”

Silence.

Then Aidan reached over, gently brushing his fingers against the back of my hand. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t forceful.

It was grounding.

And I hated how much I needed it.

“I’ve spent most of my life hunting people like you,” I said. “But now I’m starting to wonder who the real monsters are.”

Aidan turned to face me, his voice lower now. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe we’re all monsters to someone. The trick is figuring out which ones still have hearts.”

I stared at him.

He didn’t look away.

His eyes weren’t glowing. His fangs weren’t showing.

He looked human.

And worse… he looked honest.

I stood up suddenly, needing distance. “I need to think.”

“Roxanne.”

I stopped at the edge of the garden path.

“If you run,” he said, “run toward something. Not away.”

I didn’t answer.

But I didn’t walk away, either.

\---

Later that night, I stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom I now called mine.

Still dressed in black. Still armed. Still ready for war.

But I looked different.

Softer.

Tired.

Exposed.

The parchment was still hidden in my jacket, burning a hole in my conscience. My plan—becoming Luna, infiltrating the pack, tearing them down from the inside—it had always been about control. Precision.

But now I wasn’t sure who I was fighting anymore.

The Bloodfangs had a list.

Jackson was on it.

I was on it.

Aidan wasn’t.

Why?

Why was I being saved for last?

What did they want from me?

\---

I didn’t sleep that night.

Instead, I waited until Aidan had gone quiet, then slipped through the halls toward the eastern archives. The pack kept records—histories, bloodlines, agreements—anything they didn’t want shared.

I had clearance now.

I was Luna.

I passed two guards on the way. They nodded politely, but I could still feel their eyes on me as I disappeared into the stairwell.

The archive room was cold. Smelled like dust and age.

I moved fast, scanning drawers, pulling out old scrolls and ledgers. Most of it was useless. Ritual logs. Pack taxes. Marriages.

Then I found it.

A hunter report.

Fifteen years old.

From a rogue hunter—unsigned.

I flipped it open, scanning quickly. The words jumped out at me:

“The Silverlake massacre was no accident.”

My blood ran cold.

Silverlake.

That was the town where I was born.

Where my family died.

Where I lost everything.

The report continued:

“A coordinated attack was arranged. Targeted. The Alpha’s son was spared intentionally. Witness silenced. No trace left.”

Alpha’s son?

Spared?

Were they talking about Aidan?

I reread the line.

No.

I was the witness.

And somehow, I had been spared.

But why?

And by who?

A sound behind me made me freeze.

Footsteps.

Slow. Measured.

I slammed the ledger shut and turned, reaching for my blade.

Ryder stepped into the doorway.

“Curious place for a midnight stroll,” he said calmly.

My pulse jumped. “Could say the same for you.”

His eyes flicked to the book in my hand. “Find anything interesting?”

I forced a shrug. “Just brushing up on history.”

“Careful,” he said. “Some history is better left buried.”

He stepped closer.

I didn’t move.

“Be careful who you dig up, Luna,” he whispered. “You might not like what you find.”

Then he turned and vanished down the corridor.

\---

I stood there long after he was gone.

The book still clutched in my hands.

My name was on a death list.

My protector might be my enemy.

And my enemy...

Might not be the monster I thought he was.